What a pair they made.
The murderous vampire and the angry fae she’d betrayed.
Ryker didn’t usually have problems keeping his cool, but then again, he’d never fallen head over heels in love and planned a life with someone only to be destroyed by them. She had her reasons, but he couldn’t even begin to pretend he understood them.
And then, there was his magic.
It was unsettled. Angry. Swirling.
It had taken him an hour to get it to calm down after he’d stormed inside. Then he’d realized just how quiet it had become.
Once Ryker had been certain he wouldn’t do anything stupid, he checked on Brynleigh. The moment he’d cracked open the bedroom door, any residual anger he’d felt had vanished.
She was curled in a ball on the bed, naked beneath a thin red quilt that barely covered her. The shower had washed away the blood, but like a child’s finger painting gone eerily wrong, bruises covered her entire body.
He’d stared at her, aware that it was probably wrong, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from going to her.
Asleep, she looked so peaceful. Innocent, even.
It was all a fucking lie.
Last night, he had been alone in his apartment, and now, he was his murderous wife’s jailer.
Ryker had shut the door and walked away. The never-ending sting of betrayal kept him awake.
Nothing good could come of pacing for hours, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Not now, when a door was the only thing dividing them.
Instead, Ryker gave up on sleep entirely. Rest was for people whose lives weren’t disastrous messes.
He pulled out his phone, sending various messages. He placed orders and set things in motion. When his phone was close to dying, he plugged it in and kept going.
There was a lot to do, after all.
Brynleigh’s freedom hadn’t been cheap. If she agreed to the plan, they might be here for a while. And if she didn’t, he’d have to bring her back to prison.
Ryker didn’t think either of them could survive that.
Bang,bang, bang.
The repeated sound of someone’s fist slamming against the front door pulled Ryker out of a fitful sleep. He yanked open his eyes and blinked furiously to clear the fog of sleep before glancing at the clock.
It wasn’t even ten.
“Damn,” he grumbled.
Every part of him ached, protesting each small movement. He felt worse than before.
At some point around dawn, Ryker had collapsed on the lumpy couch that had seen better days in the living room, giving in to his body’s need to rest. He’d fallen into nightmares the likes of which he hadn’t experienced for many years.
Ignoring his body’s protests, he flung himself off the couch and landed on his feet. Military training kicked in, and he forced himself to be alert as he approached the door.
Calling magic to the palm of his right hand, he pulled back the curtain covering the square window on the door with his left and peered outside.
One of Ryker’s two best friends, Nikhail Galebringer, stood on the porch. The air fae’s amber gaze met Ryker’s, and Nikhail’s crisp black business suit was discordant with their forested surroundings. A blue cooler sat at his feet, and a small box was on top.
Ryker wasn’t surprised by Nikhail’s formal attire. His friend only had one look: business.
Relieved to see a familiar, friendly face after the hell that had been yesterday, Ryker exhaled and released his hold on his magic. The water disappeared as though it had never been there, and he unlocked the door.